Every Time A Bell Rings, A Time Lord Gets His Wings
by Gmariam
Summary: Ianto Jones was done with Torchwood, with aliens and dinosaurs and undying coworkers. And then the Doctor showed up to ruin his already rubbish Christmas. "This is your other life, Mr. Jones," the Doctor said quietly, coming up behind him. "This is what the world would be like if you hadn't joined Torchwood. Let's take a walk, shall we?"
1. Part One

Part One

The water danced briskly across the bay, waves rippling from the sharp wind that blew in and swirled dry leaves and litter around his feet. Above him, the sky was clear, and bright stars twinkled down upon the city. It was cold enough to snow, and it would have painted a pretty picture for Christmas Eve, but then he couldn't see the water or the sky, and that was why he had come outside, after all.

The bay really was quite beautiful. Cardiff, in that peculiar way of large cities teaming with people, was beautiful. Wales was beautiful. The sky, the water, the mountains, even the sheep—all beautiful. He knew this as well as he knew his own name. Yet it no longer moved him; he didn't _feel_ it anymore, didn't care.

Glancing down at the water, he idly wondered how cold it was. Probably cold enough to stop his heart relatively quickly, although he would drown before he froze if he jumped and let himself sink to the bottom. No, he'd definitely feel the painful bit of the icy water before he succumbed, and he wouldn't want to suffer. It wasn't that he was afraid of suffering, it was more that he was tired of it: why go through more to end it all? Suffering was for the guilty, not the tired and depressed. So he stood at the railing, staring at the dark waters of the bay, and put the thought from his mind.

He had some pills in his pocket, extra ones he'd knicked from the medical bay. He'd been taking them for his shoulder, injured in the fight at the warehouse several months ago. He'd reinjured it chasing Weevils while Gwen was on her honeymoon, a dislocation and a solid slash while he'd been temporarily stunned. That was when he'd started the medication, when he'd been unable to sleep for a solid week straight because of the tossing and turning as he'd tried to get comfortable. Jack had insisted he see Owen, Owen had given him a script, and he had simply hacked the chemist's account to keep the script current. He'd run out that morning, though, so he'd needed some of Owen's stash to make it through the holiday. He didn't feel guilty about it at all; he was too numb to care whether or not he was actually stealing, or the reasons why.

He could go home, have a drink, take the lot, and not wake up. Simple. Not traumatic or suspicious. Definitely better than drowning in ice water, and much better than Cybermen or Weevils or the latest alien plague. Fingering the bottle in his pocket, he took one out and swallowed it dry, then glanced back at the tourist office, hoping no one was watching him on CCTV.

Ianto Jones was done with Torchwood, with aliens and dinosaurs and undying coworkers. Only one thing had gone right for him since the day Canary Wharf fell, and even that one thing was fraught with so many miscommunications and misunderstandings that some days he wondered why he bothered. Everything else…rubbish. Complete, utter shite. That was his life, a series of bad days followed by worse days followed by narrowly avoiding the end of the world interspersed with an occasional good laugh and a lot of great sex.

His mother had passed away the day he'd reinjured his shoulder. Two months later and his sister was still giving him a hard time for not being there, for getting himself hurt playing rugby (as if), for not coming by the estate more often. She was certain he was sublimating, burying himself in his dead-end civil servant's job to hide his grief, when really, she was the one mothering her little brother into oblivion as a way of dealing with her own loss. Ianto missed his mum and still mourned her in his own way, but his bloody sister was making it worse. She'd even been hounding him about bringing someone to Christmas dinner, reminding him that he couldn't mourn Lisa forever, he needed to move on, find someone to love again and did he want to meet her friend Megan, she was really nice and pretty and single?

Oh, if only she knew everything.

His dead-end job was exactly that—a literal dead end in every way, personally and professionally. Deceased coworkers coming back to life aside, it had been a difficult time at Torchwood. They had finally adjusted to Owen's strange new half-life, but the Rift and the Weevils and a dozen other things were running them ragged, not to mention an epidemic of meddling from UNIT and oversight from London. Ianto was sick of sedating Weevils, sweet talking Whitehall, filling out the paperwork, and making enough coffee to get through it all awake and standing.

He was tired. He didn't want to do this anymore. He'd thought about Retcon, but what was the point? It would require too much to wipe Torchwood from his mind, and in spite of the pain and the grief, there were things he wanted to remember about the last four years of his life. And he suspected Jack would track him down and trigger his memory anyway. Which brought up yet another aspect of his sad, pathetic life—his boss slash lover. A man who had asked for more and had, for the most part, made good on that offer, only it wasn't quite what Ianto had thought it would be, mostly because Jack still seemed to pine after others too much for Ianto to feel completely sure of his place in Jack's life.

Yes, Jack was old. He'd had a lot of lovers, even been married, and there was, of course, his obsession with the Doctor. Ianto could accept all that, but being second choice in the present was different than playing second fiddle to the past or the future. He thought about ending their strange affair, but what else was there in his life? There was only Torchwood, and Jack was Torchwood, and it was impossible to separate them. Leaving Jack meant leaving Torchwood, which meant he'd have nothing.

It was pathetic, really. He'd survived Canary Wharf, he'd survived Lisa's death, he'd survived cannibals and aliens and the end of the world multiple times. Yet apparently after eighteen months of the universe giving him the two-finger salute, it was suddenly too much to bear anymore. He was tired of mourning friends and family, tired of saving the world with no pat on the back or bonus pay, tired of feeling alone in spite of spending most nights having great sex. Tired of feeling tired.

Which was why he'd told Jack he was going to Rhiannon's and told Rhiannon he'd had to work. In reality, he was going to go home and drink himself stupid, then reevaluate his life in the morning over coffee and leftover take away while not thinking about it being Christmas morning. He had reached a turning point and needed to sort it out: his family life was difficult, his professional life was a disaster waiting to happen, his social life was nonexistent, his love life was bordering on Shakespearean tragedy, and to top it off, he was clearly depressed and hooked on painkillers.

A gust of cold wind ruffled his coat and he pulled it close around him. He should leave, go inside and get warm, but he couldn't make his feet move, because it was Christmas and he was going home alone to mourn what could have been a much better life than this. He didn't _want_ to be alone, even if he thought he did.

"What a bloody waste," he murmured.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," said a cheerful voice behind him. Ianto sighed and let his eyes slipped closed. This was really not the time for chipper strangers to try and strike up a conversation. He wanted to wallow without an audience.

"Then don't say it," Ianto replied curtly. "If you'll excuse me." He forced himself to walk away, leaving the Hub behind, but was stopped in his tracks when the stranger called his name.

"Mr. Jones!" the man called, and Ianto turned to find himself face to face with a tall, dark haired man with unruly hair and glasses. He was wearing a nice enough suit, ruined by red trainers, and a long brown coat that fluttered in the wind much like Jack's greatcoat.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, trying not to snap irritably and probably failing, "do I know you?"

"Oh, probably not," the man answered, bouncing on his toes and studying Ianto closely. "At least, not yet. In a few months, though."

Ianto groaned and turned away again. "Right. Time travel. I'm out of here."

"Mr. Jones!" the man called again. "Ianto!"

"Leave me alone," Ianto grumbled as the man came up beside him. "It's Christmas Eve, and this is not a Charles Dickens story, so go haunt someone else."

"But I came here to haunt…I mean, to see you."

"Right. Before we actually meet in a few months." Ianto stopped abruptly and stared at the strange man, glancing at his wrist. "You're not a Time Agent, are you?"

"What?" the man asked, sounding indignant. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm much better than those amateurs."

"So you're a professional time traveler then?" asked Ianto, putting as much dry skepticism into his voice as he could.

"Got my own ship and everything," the man replied proudly, clearing missing the sarcasm. And that was when it occurred to Ianto who he was talking to.

"Would that happen to be a blue police box?" he asked, and the man grinned, one of those blinding grins like Jack.

"It would! You're quick, Mr. Jones. I left her up on the Plass to refuel."

"Of course you did," Ianto murmured. He nodded as he made up his mind, pulled his right arm back into a fist, and let it fly straight into the man's chin.

"What was that for?" the man exclaimed, rubbing his face. Ianto huffed at him and stalked away.

"Anything. Everything," he snapped. "For Canary Wharf, for Jack, for ruining my already rubbish Christmas even more."

"Whoa," said the man. "Let's start over, shall we?"

"No, thank you. Good night. " The man kept following him.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor."

"I know," Ianto replied flatly.

"It's nice to meet you again, Mr. Jones. May I call you Ianto?"

"Don't bother, because I'm leaving. I have no wish to talk to you." Ianto walked away yet again. It was easy. Why was Jack always running toward this man?

"Do you have plans for tonight?" the Doctor asked, catching up.

"I have a date with a bottle of bourbon," Ianto replied. "It's my new Christmas tradition."

"Alone?" asked the Doctor.

"That's my life," Ianto snapped. "Now, I really am leaving this time."

"Were you going to jump?" asked the man softly, and Ianto stopped. He sighed again and turned around.

"How long were you watching?"

"Long enough."

"Then you'll notice that I didn't," Ianto replied. "I happen to like this suit."

"Are you going to go home and try something else? Those pills in your pocket?" the man asked. Obviously he had no sense of privacy or decorum. Ianto stared at him in exasperation.

"It's really none of your business what I may or may not do with my life."

"Oh, but I think it is," the Doctor replied. "See, I'm a time traveler. I can't change things that have already happened, but sometimes I can stop bad things from happening in the first place, especially those things that are not meant to happen."

"And my standing outside on Christmas Eve is that bad, is it?" Ianto asked, rolling his eyes. "Good thing I didn't come out with a fag, that'd really have the time police swooping in, wouldn't it?"

The Doctor frowned. "It's not a particularly healthy habit, no. But you standing outside thinking it's all a waste and wondering about things like jumping and Retcon—that's bad."

"Again—none of your business," Ianto pointed out. "And I wasn't seriously considering either."

"In another week, you will," the Doctor replied, all trace of flippancy gone. "Only it will be at the top of a tall building with Jack trying to talk you out of it. So we're going to work this out now, before it comes to that."

"I'm sure Jack's seen people jump before," Ianto said sullenly. Of course the Doctor wasn't there for him, but for Jack, probably so Jack wasn't traumatized by watching Ianto throw himself from the top of the Capital Tower. Because wasn't it always about Jack?

"Probably," said the Doctor. "But that doesn't make it any easier, especially when it's someone he cares about."

Ianto snorted. "So you're here to talk me out of ending it so Jack doesn't suffer? That's not particularly encouraging, you know."

"I'm not here because of Jack," the Doctor replied evenly. "Sparing him the pain of watching another lover leave him is a bonus. No, I'm here for you, Mr. Jones.

"Bullshit."

The Doctor strode up to him and right into his personal space, not unlike Jack, but Ianto did not feel that same heady giddiness he usually felt when Jack was this close. No, instead he sensed age and wisdom and great sadness touched with impatient anger from the man before him. He forced himself to stand his ground and not step away.

"Now is not your time to die, Ianto Jones. You may be tired, and you might think it's all a colossal waste of time, but it's not. There are too many things you need to do, people you need to save. So I'm here to save you. Save the tea boy, save the world."

Ianto frowned. That sounded familiar. The Doctor must have noticed and waved him away.

"Not particularly original, but still the truth. Or more accurately—save the tea boy, preserve the integrity of the multidimensional timeline. You've already saved so many people, why should it come as a surprise that I'm here to save you?"

"Because anyone else could have done whatever I did," Ianto replied. "Or will do. I'm no one special."

"Jack thinks so," the Doctor pointed out.

Ianto couldn't hold back a snort. "That's bollocks. Jack thinks I'm a good shag and that's about it."

The Doctor frowned and shook his head. "This is worse than I thought. Perhaps I should have gone back earlier." He seemed to come to a decision and looked up into Ianto's eyes. "Jack cares deeply about you, Ianto. His life is one of many that would be very different if you weren't here."

"You mean, if I hadn't joined Torchwood?" Ianto asked bitterly. "Because that's basically when it started going to shit. I mean, I had a good two years in London, but since then? Nothing worth staying for."

"And yet you've stayed," the Doctor pointed out quietly.

"And I was planning on going home, getting very drunk, and trying to figure out why," Ianto snapped. "So if you don't mind, why don't we call it a night? Give Jack a ring, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to run off again. I'll even let the others know so they don't panic like last time."

"I'm not here to see Jack," the Doctor insisted. Ianto left the boardwalk and headed up to the Plass, determined to get away from this man who insisted on pursuing and psychoanalyzing him. He sped up, until he glanced toward the invisible lift and stopped short.

There was a blue police box sitting on the pavement.

"That's your ship," he said rather stupidly, staring at it in shock. The Doctor came up behind him and clapped him on the back.

"And you can see her! Good for you!" At Ianto's questioning look, the Doctor shrugged and moved forward. "Most people can't see her. A perception filter keeps them from running up and trying to ring the police."

"Basic psychic training at Torchwood One," Ianto murmured. This was the ship that had appeared at Canary Wharf. This was the ship that Jack had clung to as he'd disappeared. This was the Tardis, a time machine, and it was right there in front of him. Ianto wasn't sure if he wanted to kick it, run away and forget he'd ever seen it, or maybe both.

"Ooh, then you might be able to hear her when you're inside. I bet she'll like you, Mr. Jones." The Doctor took Ianto's elbow and gently pulled him toward the police box. Ianto put up a token resistance that was easily overcome. Really, he was still too surprised and undecided to do anything else but let the Doctor lead him. Maybe this was why Jack followed the man anywhere. The Doctor's presence was slightly overwhelming.

As they came to the door, however, Ianto snapped out of it and stepped away. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going home. It's Christmas."

"Then we'll stop for a nice pudding somewhen," the Doctor replied. "But you are coming with me. I know exactly what to do with you."

"And what's that?" Ianto demanded. "Besides trying to kidnap me."

"I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor replied, drawing himself up tall. "I can see what was, what will be, what could have been, what could be. Possibilities. I'm going to show you that your life has not been a waste. On the contrary, you have touched an extraordinary number of people with your strength and compassion. Lives that would be very different, and possibly over, were it not for you."

"I still don't believe you," Ianto replied.

"And why not?" the Doctor demanded, opening the door.

"Because this is starting to sound too much like an old-fashioned Christmas movie." All the Doctor needed was a pair of angel wings and they'd be golden. Ianto shook the image from his head.

The Doctor cocked his head. "Ideas have to come from somewhere," he replied.

"The one I'm thinking of is in black and white," Ianto said. He half expected to hear a bell ring nearby.

"And it was based on a true story," said the Doctor. He motioned Ianto through the door, but Ianto did not move. "I met the writer. Mr. Jones…Ianto. Please. Come with me. I need to do this."

"For who?" Ianto asked. "For you? For Jack? For a bunch of people I apparently need to save someday?"

"For you," the Doctor replied simply. "And for the future. So do get a move on, before I throw you on board."

"You wouldn't," Ianto replied. The Doctor grasped his elbow tight.

"Try me."

Ianto looked at him without answering and did not move.

"I'll have you back by midnight!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I'm a time traveler, I can do that, you know."

"And from what Jack's told me, your aim is quite a bit off."

"Yes, well, that was different," the Doctor said, sounding defensive. "There was a big knot in the Vortex, and as much as I wanted to get Jack back at the right time, we couldn't work around it. "

"And what if something like that happens again?" Ianto demanded. "I'm not going with you only to disappear for four months. I know what it's like to be abandoned with no word, and it sucks."

"Leave him a note," the Doctor shrugged. "You know, on your phone."

Ianto sighed and reached into his pocket. He glanced down at his mobile, appalled that he was even considering it and wondering what the hell he could put into a short text message that would accurately convey what was going on without upsetting Jack.

 _The Doctor is here and said I should go with him. Apparently he needs to show me something to protect the future. I hope brings me back marginally close to the time I left. Happy Christmas. I._

It wasn't much but it would have to do. With a deep breath to steady jangling nerves, Ianto stepped through the doorway onto the Tardis. The door shut behind him as he glanced around the interior of the ship. Although it was quite beautiful, he felt trapped, until a soothing presence tickled at the edges of his mind. Somehow, he knew it was the ship itself reaching out to him.

"I told you she'd like you!" the Doctor crowed. He started running around a center console, throwing levers and pushing buttons. Ianto let the calming presence flow over him. For the first time, he felt like he might be doing the right thing.

"She's beautiful," he whispered, and the Doctor grinned at him like a proud father. The ship shuddered around them, then without warning, everything stopped and the Doctor clapped his hands together.

"We're here! Short trip, I'm afraid," he said. "You'll have to explore the ship later."

He bounded toward the door and stopped to hold out his hand to Ianto.

"Mr. Jones, welcome to the road not taken. Let's go see what life is like when you turn left, shall we?"

Ianto didn't understand a word of what the man said, but he followed without taking the man's hand. He sensed his world was about to be turned upside down as he stepped outside and mentally prepared himself.

They stepped outside onto the bright, sunny pavement of the Plass.

Confused, Ianto glanced around, looking for something…anything…different. The Doctor had said they were traveling in time, or at least in the possibilities of time. Yet everything looked exactly the same as it had when they'd left, except it was clearly morning instead of night.

And then he saw himself, striding across the pavement in a grey pinstripe and a pea coat. Again, not so different. But instead of turning right on the boardwalk toward the tourist office, the other Ianto Jones turned left and walked along the Quay.

"This is your other life, Mr. Jones," the Doctor said quietly, coming up behind him. "This is what the world would be like if you hadn't joined Torchwood. Let's take a walk, shall we?"

And as bizarre as it was, Ianto followed without protest, strangely curious to see just how different his life would have been had he never joined Torchwood One.

* * *

Author's Note:

I'm chuffed. I adore writing Ianto and Doctor interactions! I hope you enjoyed it. Many thanks to Taamar for the lovely long title. This story will be in three parts. I've finished the second so I'm off to work on the third and see how it ends. Let a girl know what you think, yeah? 'Tis the season and all that. Ta!


	2. Part Two

Part Two

Ianto walked silently with the Doctor, curious in spite of his doubts. The man they were following—his other self, the one who had never joined Torchwood—did not look all that different, although Ianto thought he caught a hint of a beard, which was interesting. The suit and the shoes and the coat all looked familiar, and very Torchwood, but this Ianto Jones had walked right past the Hub.

They followed the man along the Quay to the coffee shop that the team visited frequently when they needed to get out of the Hub. He ordered two cappuccinos and some pastries and continued toward the Senedd. They followed him into the assembly building, where he greeted a young blond woman with a kiss and handed her the other drink. They held hands as they entered a nearby lift, talking and laughing, appearing comfortable and content with one another. The Doctor bounced on his toes, obviously waiting for Ianto's reaction.

"So…" Ianto started, turning toward the other man. "I still work for the government."

"Still a PA, too," the Doctor replied. "General Assistant to the AM from…Newport, I believe?"

"Brilliant," Ianto murmured. "So not only did I never leave, but I'm still in Cardiff, working in the very place I wanted to get away from."

"Oh, you left," said the Doctor, motioning Ianto toward a nearby bench. "Went to London, but came back after university. You weren't recruited into Torchwood, so you had no reason to stay."

Ianto shook his head as he sat down, glancing around the busy area in disagreement. This was not what he had ever envisioned for his life. "I would have stayed. I was trying to get away from Cardiff."

"But was London really everything you thought it would be?" the Doctor asked shrewdly.

"It was better than Cardiff, at the time," Ianto replied. "Especially when I had a job offer working in a high-tech office building for Queen and country under the Official Secrets Act."

"You didn't get the offer," the Doctor replied. "So you came back, simple as that. Drifted a bit, until four years ago you started work in the Senedd. You worked your way up quickly, known for your organization, efficiency, and amazing coffee." He paused and frowned, as if considering something. "Ah. You're coffee machine broke last week so you've been picking some up on the way in. You'll get one for Christmas, no worries."

Ianto tried to wrap his mind around the thought of having never been approached by Torchwood. Why hadn't he tried for something else in London? Why come back to Cardiff? And work for the government? He'd gone to school with only vague ideas of what he wanted to do with his life, but working for the National Assembly for Wales had not been one of them.

"Who was the woman I kissed?" Ianto asked. He hadn't recognized her, and the thought of being with someone he'd never met in his own time was almost as unsettling as working for the National Assembly.

"She's your girlfriend, obviously. Her name is Megan, and she works for another AM. You've been together a year now, everyone thinks you're a lovely couple and your family loves her, and I do believe you're thinking about popping the question soon." The Doctor was watching him closely as the realization hit.

"I never met Lisa," he said softly. "Because I never joined Torchwood One."

"You never met Jack either," the Doctor added, surprisingly gentle about it. Ianto couldn't imagine having never met these two important people. He wouldn't be the man he was today if it hadn't been for their influence on who he was, both good and bad. Suddenly he wanted to know everything, but not about his own life—about theirs.

"What happened to her?" he asked. "To Lisa? She joined Torchwood before me. Did she stay?"

The Doctor took off his glasses and nodded sadly. "Let's go for a walk. Stop by the Tardis for some tea, perhaps?"

Ianto frowned, knowing the Doctor was putting him off, but nodded and stood to follow him. They walked in silence back to the Plass and the Tardis, where the Doctor led him through a maze of corridors to a small kitchen-like area. He set a kettle to boiling while Ianto watched and waited impatiently. He would have preferred coffee, but then again, he felt out of his depth, and something more comforting than straight up black would probably settle him more.

"Doctor," Ianto said quietly. "I'd like to know what happened to Lisa Hallett."

To his surprise, the Doctor handed him his tea in a paper cup with a lid, then inclined his head toward what was presumably the door, and they walked back out into the cold sunshine. The tea was strong and hot, but good.

"She died at the Battle of Canary Wharf," the Doctor started matter-of-factly. "She was captured early on, because she wasn't dating a certain Junior Researcher who warned her about the Cybermen and pulled her off the conversion table when it was all over." The Doctor did not look at Ianto, but stared straight ahead. "She took part in the battle as a fully converted Cyberman and was sucked into the void at the end."

"Oh my god," Ianto whispered. He stopped in his tracks, sickened by the thought of such a horrific fate for the woman he'd loved. Tossing his unfinished cup into the nearest rubbish bin, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart. Lisa was dead. Yes, she was dead in his own time as well, but at least she'd had a fighting chance. He'd warned her, he'd pulled her out of the rubble, he'd done everything he possibly could to try and save her. He'd still failed, but the thought of his Lisa fully converted and killing others only to be sucked into the Void was even worse.

The Doctor was watching him carefully. "I told you—you made a difference. You saved her life."

Ianto shook his head. "I _tried_ to save her life. I only prolonged her suffering, but at least…" He shook off the thought, that at least she hadn't been fully converted. In the end, she had been. Taking a deep breath, he met the Doctor's eyes.

"If I wasn't at Torchwood One to save her, that means I never came to Torchwood Three to hide her. Tell me about the others."

"If you insist," replied the Doctor. "Let's walk some more. Back to where I found you."

Ianto motioned him forward and started asking questions. "What about the team? Suzie, Tosh, Owen, and Gwen? What about Jack? Torchwood Three couldn't be that different."

"Well, to start with, Gwen Cooper never joined Torchwood," said the Doctor. "She's dead."

"What?" Ianto exclaimed. "But I didn't know her before she joined. I couldn't have made a difference in her life!"

The Doctor smiled sadly. "Oh, but you did. You weren't there to warn Jack that Suzie Costello had shown up and was threatening Gwen up on the Plass. Jack was too late. Suzie shot Gwen, shot Jack, and finally shot herself."

"But I…" Ianto thought back to that night. Yes, he had been the one to tell Jack that Gwen Cooper had been wandering around the Plass. And he had called Jack immediately when Suzie had arrived, instinctively sensing the situation was about to go from bad to worse. He'd never considered that he'd saved Gwen's life that night. Now he tried to push bitter thoughts from his mind. She was a good person and even a friend of sorts; he would not wish things otherwise.

"Did Jack hire someone else then? If he didn't hire Gwen?"

The Doctor finished his tea and tossed his cup, then tucked his hands into his pockets as he shook his head. "No, he was too upset about them both. He felt like it was his fault that Gwen Cooper was killed, and was too consumed by guilt over Suzie's downfall to replace her. So they muddled on, the three of them. For a while."

"For a while?"

The Doctor nodded, and his tone took on an indifferent impartiality, as if he were simply reciting rote facts. "Toshiko Sato was killed in the Welsh countryside by a group of cannibals. There was no one there to distract her captors and give her the chance to escape."

"She…" Ianto stared at him, unable to process this one. Tosh, his closest friend, dead in the countryside because of him? "What about the others? They could have saved her!"

"But they didn't. Owen Harper was trying to save the one survivor they'd found, and Jack was questioning one of the villagers. By the time he arrived, she was already gone. She died in Dr. Harper's arms.

Ianto was speechless. They arrived outside the Tourist Office and he sank onto a bench, his head falling into his hands.

"What about Owen?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse. "How did he take it?"

"Quite badly," the Doctor replied. "He even left for a while. Jack carried on alone, but the guilt kept growing. Owen came back to help with some stranded time travelers, but Jack lost one of them and Owen lost the other, and they both fell apart for a while."

Ianto knew the Doctor was referring to John Ellis and Diane Holmes. It was strange to think how many things had still happened, but had happened so differently.

"Owen left Cardiff for good after that, and Jack let him go without taking his memories. He worked on his own again, unwilling to sacrifice anyone else to the demons of Torchwood. He was sucked into a time portal and landed in 1941, but without anyone at the Hub to open the Rift, he had to take the slow path back to the time he'd disappeared. When he did, he was caught up in a plot to open the Rift and release a monster held prisoner there."

"Abaddon," Ianto murmured. He tried to imagine Jack living through the twentieth century again, constantly avoiding himself, only to have to face Abaddon sixty-five years later on his own. It broke Ianto's heart yet again.

The Doctor nodded. "It took him a while to recover from that one. And then I showed up to refuel, and he hitched a ride with me. He'd been waiting for over a century to find out why he couldn't die and was only too happy to leave Torchwood behind after all he'd lost."

Ianto felt himself tense at the Doctor's words. He couldn't imagine Jack willingly leaving Torchwood. He also knew that Jack's time with the Doctor had been difficult, to say the least. Jack had been held captive and tortured for a year, though Ianto didn't know much else. He wondered if it had been the same in this time.

"Yes, the Year That Never Was," the Doctor murmured, gazing out across the bay. "Some things don't change. And that was one of them. It was a hard year for Jack, but at the end, he came back here. He and Martha decided Earth was their home and needed to be protected. He took back Torchwood from UNIT and she joined up. They found Dr. Harper and set about protecting the city once again."

"Are they still alive?" Ianto asked, almost dreading the answer. The Doctor didn't answer immediately.

"Jack went through a difficult time when he came back. I suppose you'd call it post-traumatic stress. He didn't have anyone to turn to, not really. Martha tried to help, but she was dealing with it herself, as well as trying to help her family. And Dr. Harper was a friend and coworker, not a close confidante or lover."

"What are you saying?" Ianto demanded. "That Jack left again? That he couldn't cope and ran away?"

"No," the Doctor said, shaking his head sadly. "But without your support, he fell into a deep depression. Nightmares, flashbacks. Started drinking again. He was more alone than ever."

"That's not my fault!" Ianto snapped. "It's yours! You…you took him away, got captured and let him be tortured for an entire year! You broke him!"

"And you put him back together," the Doctor replied. "Without you, he fell apart, over and over. Martha returned to London after the team lost several days of their memory, and she decided to stay with her family. I suspect running into a certain young doctor helped influence her choice to leave Torchwood and go back to medicine." Ianto knew he was referring to Thomas Milligan, Martha's fiancé, but that was beside the point now.

"Tell me what happened to Jack!" he demanded, standing and confronting the Doctor. The Doctor simply inclined his head toward the tourist office. Ianto turned to see Jack step outside, but it was not the man he knew.

This man appeared smaller, thinner. He looked defeated. The greatcoat both he and Jack took great pride in maintaining was dull and dirty, his tan boots caked in mud. Slightly longer hair and stubble gave him the appearance of having rolled out of bed, but it was clear from the bags under his eyes that he didn't sleep at all anymore. There was no light in this Jack's eyes, no spark of life in his slow, hunched walk toward the water. Ianto had never seen a more gut-wrenching sight.

"Jack," he whispered, taking a step closer before stopping himself. The man at the railing glanced over his shoulder as if he had heard something, but when Ianto looked to the Doctor, the time traveler shook his head.

"He can't see or hear us. We're not truly here, because this place doesn't actually exist. Everything you see is what could have been, a universe of what-ifs."

"It's not real," Ianto replied. "He's not real."

"Could have been, though," the Doctor said. Ianto looked at him sharply.

"I don't believe it for a second. Jack is the strongest man I know! He'd never break, not like…like that!" He waved his hand toward the man at the railing, leaning over smoking a fag. Ianto had never once seen Jack smoke, and it was not the turn-on he'd once thought it could be.

"Everyone has their breaking point," the Doctor said quietly. "Not long after Martha returned to London, Owen Harper was killed while undercover at the Pharm. Jack was too far gone to bring him back with that glove he tracked down in your time. He gave up."

"He wouldn't do that!" Ianto shouted, resisting the impulse to push the man away from him. "You don't know him at all if you think that."

"It's not my personal opinion, it's what would have happened if you hadn't joined Torchwood. You wouldn't have met Lisa and you wouldn't have been at Canary Wharf, which means you wouldn't have come to Cardiff and met Jack."

"And Gwen and Tosh and Owen are all dead because of me?" Ianto scoffed, refusing to believe it. "Jack is…is this, all because of me? It's bollocks!"

"It's true."

"It's not!" Ianto shouted, waving his arms; he refused to believe it. He was not some sort of lynchpin, he was one small man living on a backward planet in the 21st century. "I'm not that important, not to Torchwood, not to them, and not to Jack."

He was breathing rapidly as he blinked back tears and turned toward Jack, wishing he could take this other man in his arms and assure him that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't a bitter, broken man, but strong and confident and full of life. As he took another step forward, knowing it was useless but reaching out nonetheless, the Doctor began speaking.

At first, it was nothing but names Ianto did not recognize. Then he started to remember. The first few names were friends and coworkers from London, followed by Gwen, Tosh, and Owen. Then came dozens of names, ordinary citizens of Cardiff that Ianto knew were tied to various cases over his time at Torchwood Three, or survivors of the Rift at Flat Holm. There were even a few alien names. And last of all…

"Jack Harkness."

Ianto let his eyes slip closed. The Doctor was wrong. It was impossible. Ianto was one person, one insignificant thread in the vast canvas of life. It did not matter how his thread was woven into the tapestry, for his was not a particularly strong, colorful, or important thread in the overall design. That so many others depended on him was unimaginable.

"And yet you are," the Doctor said, eyeing him thoughtfully. "You are important. You are strong. You matter."

"Get out of my head," Ianto snapped.

"I can see it on your face," the Doctor replied. "You're wondering how this is all possible."

"You're a charlatan," Ianto whispered, shaking his head in denial. "You're showing me what you think I want to see."

"I'm showing you the truth!" the Doctor said, and for a moment Ianto thought the man might grab his shoulders and shake him. "The truth is that you not only made a difference in each one of those lives, but you are destined to save even more, Mr. Jones."

"Which is why you're really here to save mine," Ianto replied with bitterness. "I'm just a tool of fate. Is someone I save destined to be the next Prime Minister? Or perhaps their ancestor will discover the cure to cancer?"

"No!" The Doctor turned around, paced away a few steps, then returned. He didn't grab Ianto, but he did shake a finger in Ianto's face, as if disciplining a recalcitrant child. "I'm here for _you._ Because _you_ deserve to live, and _you_ deserve to be happy—"

"Well, I'm not!" Ianto interjected, hating that he sounded like he was pouting.

"—and because even though you don't think so and may not believe it, Jack cares about you. Don't you get it?" The Doctor gestured at Jack, still standing at the railing, staring at the water with an empty look on his face. "That man you see there? That is Jack Harkness, broken and alone. Your Jack is actually living, not just sleepwalking through life, because of you. Your Jack is strong and determined and confident, not bitter and broken, all because of you. Your Jack loves you, because you are the only one who was always there for him, who supported him, who saved him—who loved him."

"I don't—" started Ianto, but the Doctor stopped him.

"You do, and he does, and neither of you may ever admit it to yourselves, let alone to each other, but it's the truth." This time he did put his hands on either side of Ianto's shoulders. "You are worthy of life, Ianto Jones. You may not think so, but you have so much to live for...your friends, your family, and especially Jack."

Ianto shook his head, refusing to believe it. The Doctor was so wrong it physically hurt, a dull throb in his chest, and from that hurt bubbled great anger.

"Take me back," he said forcefully. "Take me back to my own time. Now."

"So you can top it?" the Doctor asked skeptically. "Or have I changed your mind about it all being a waste of time?"

"You haven't changed my mind at all, because you know nothing about me!" Ianto shouted, shoving him away and pacing. "If you did, you wouldn't have brought me here. You don't know how it adds up, dealing with all the shit we have to go through. My mother died a few months ago, and my sister won't stop giving me a hard time about how I choose to grieve, about my job, about my love life. I've been injured more times than I care to count since I started this bloody job, which is why I'm hooked on these damn things." He took the pills from his pocket and shook them at the Doctor. "One of my coworkers can't die, and another died but came back and can't live. We save the world every other week and no one knows what we do, or why we do it, because we have to cover it up and lie about it every day. My…Jack…cares more about you, and about Gwen, and probably a dozen other people, than he does about me, even if he is sleeping with me. I wake up every day wondering if that will be the day that he leaves, whether he leaves me or leaves Earth for good."

"Jack—" started the Doctor, but Ianto snarled and stopped him.

"Shut up! It's too much, all right? It's not what I wanted, and I'm sick of it! It doesn't matter, _I_ don't matter, because there are other people out there who could do this better anyway. And thanks to you, I think I'm ready to let them have a crack at it."

"What?" the Doctor asked in surprise. Ianto offered a bitter smile.

"You've shown me what my life could have been. What's to stop it from happening in my own timeline? I could quit Torchwood and go work for the Senedd. Start all over. I could have a house, a fiancé, a normal life. Hell, I could probably be an AM myself by the time I'm thirty, which is more than what I can say about staying with Torchwood. I'll be lucky to make it that long!"

"Is that what you really want?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"I don't know!" Ianto shouted. "But I don't want this, not anymore, not if there's something else out there. I don't want to watch my friends die, and I don't want to watch Jack leave, and I don't want to spend the rest of my short life underground, taking care of aliens and addicted to painkillers!"

The Doctor was staring at him and did not reply. Ianto opened his mouth to continue his tirade, but stopped when the Doctor's eyes widened and his mouth curved into a smile. He tipped his head to someone behind Ianto and stepped backward, as if surrendering the stage. Ianto turned to find the last person he expected standing there, eyes full of shock, sadness, and pain.

Jack. _His_ Jack.

* * *

Author's Notes:

This is now a four-part story. Because honestly? When I started writing this, I did not expect Ianto to react this way until I typed it. Really. It's such an amazing thing to be writing one thing and have another appear as if by magic. It almost convinces me that these stories we tell, every one, are simply out there, waiting to be transcribed by the right person. I hope this second part has lived up to the expectations of the first! Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews, although some of them make me worry that the rest won't be good enough! I hope you enjoyed this even if it's a bit sad for Ianto. There is more angst, as you might imagine now that Jack has arrived and probably heard some of what Ianto said. But keep the faith, because it's Christmas and it's me.

Also, I've updated 'A Different Life' if anyone is reading that story. The response has been slow, so I'm shamelessly pimping it here. I'm hoping it's not losing steam but sometimes fear the worst. Thanks for reading!


	3. Part Three

Part Three

"I'm sorry," whispered Jack, _his_ Jack. Ianto knew it was his Jack because the other broken Jack was still standing at the rail, staring listlessly out across the bay, smoke curling around his head.

"Jack, I—" started Ianto, but he didn't know what to say. He turned instead to glare with silent accusation at the Doctor. The Time Lord shrugged.

"Don't blame me, I didn't bring him here. I brought you, thinking you might see what a difference you've made in the lives of many other people. Apparently I failed."

"You didn't fail, Doctor," said Jack, his eyes never leaving Ianto. "I did."

"No, Jack," said Ianto, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. It's me, it's Torchwood…it's everything. I'm the one who's sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Jack replied. "Doctor, could we have a moment?"

"Oh," said the Doctor, sounding surprised. "Certainly. I'll just go…er…I'll check on the Tardis, see what she's up to, besides sneaking around on her own picking up strange men and running off to alternate realities with them. Come back when you're ready."

"We will," said Jack. He hadn't moved, and neither had Ianto. The Doctor watched them both for a moment, then walked away. He laid a hand on Jack's shoulder as he passed and murmured something Ianto couldn't hear. Jack nodded, still watching Ianto with sad eyes, and Ianto had the feeling it had been about him. And that fired up his anger and irritation again.

"What are you doing here, Jack?" he asked. Jack took a few cautious steps forward, but Ianto stepped back, not wanting to get too close. He was well aware that he had said some fairly harsh things about Jack, and that Jack might have heard them all. Judging from the man's reaction, he had heard enough to make the upcoming conversation uncomfortable.

"The Tardis brought me," Jack replied. "I got your text and went up to the Plass, but you were already gone. So I waited—"

"Even though you know his sense of timing is rubbish?" asked Ianto, and Jack grinned ruefully.

"Even though I know his sense of timing is rubbish," Jack echoed. "And it wasn't long before the Tardis showed up and the door opened. It was fairly obvious she wanted me to go with her."

"The ship is sentient, that it can act on its own?" Ianto wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. It seemed ridiculous, that a blue police box would bring Jack to this other reality where Ianto never joined Torchwood. Why?

"I didn't think so," Jack murmured, sounding confused. "But she brought me to you."

"Right." Ianto crossed his arms over his chest and scuffed his shoes on the boardwalk. "Why? How much did you hear?"

"Enough," said Jack, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and stepped closer again, and this time Ianto did not move away, though he did not react either. Jack obviously sensed Ianto's reticence and did not reach out to touch him.

"Were you really thinking about…about topping it, like he said?" He sounded worried and scared and confused; Ianto felt the same, and embarrassed that Jack now knew yet another dark secret of his soul.

"I don't know," he replied sullenly. "I was going to go home and think about things when _he_ showed up."

"I thought you were going to your sister's," Jack said. Ianto shrugged.

"I told her I was working," he said. "And got another earful about my job and my love life and everything in between."

"I'm sorry," Jack said yet again, and Ianto almost rolled his eyes.

"What for? It's not your fault she's a meddling cow sometimes, or that I can't tell her the truth when she badgers me about how I hurt my shoulder or why I work so much or why I don't want to—" He stopped before he said something he'd regret. Jack knew his sister often tried to set him up with her female friends, but he didn't know that Ianto put her off with excuses that had nothing to do with Jack. He hadn't told her about Jack because what could he tell her that would even come close to explaining whatever part Jack played in his life?

"Celebrate Christmas with your family?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded, even though it wasn't what he'd been about to say.

"So you were going to go home alone? Spend Christmas by yourself?" asked Jack. Ianto tried not to imagine that he heard anything in Jack's voice other than curiosity and professional concern, certainly not confusion or hurt. He shrugged again, desperately uncomfortable. It was bad enough when the Doctor had accosted him, yet talking to a stranger was easier in many ways than talking to Jack. They didn't talk about things like this, and in spite of anything he may have said, Ianto didn't want to hurt Jack.

Jack sighed. "Can we sit down?"

Ianto walked to a nearby bench and Jack followed, sitting close enough to brush legs. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and took a deep breath.

"I heard what you said about leaving Torchwood," Jack started. "And it scared the hell out of me. But I don't understand what's going on. Where are we? Or when are we?"

Ianto replied without looking at him, staring unseeing past the other Jack and out across the water. "We are nowhere, really. No when. This is a reality that doesn't exist, but according to the Doctor, it's what _could_ have existed." He inhaled and blew it out slowly. "If I hadn't joined Torchwod."

"Oh," Jack said softly, as if he immediately understood. "So the Doctor showed you the left turn."

"Whatever that means," Ianto laughed bitterly. "You both talk in riddles. Must be a time traveler thing."

"There are turning points in everyone's life, points where one decision, one action can make a tremendous difference in their lives. Joining Torchwood is obviously one of those points for you."

"I know," Ianto replied. "I saw. I saw what my life would be like without Torchwood."

"And that's why you want to leave?" Jack asked, his voice so quiet Ianto could barely hear him. When Ianto didn't answer, Jack sat up straight and looked at him. "Can I ask what you saw?"

Ianto nodded reluctantly. "I came back to Cardiff," he said. "I work in the Senedd, I have a girlfriend I'm going to propose to soon, and apparently I'm getting a coffeemaker for Christmas."

"A normal life," Jack whispered, and Ianto nodded.

"A normal life," he repeated. "Only with a price. Gwen is dead, Tosh is gone, Owen never came back. And you…" He trailed off and gestured toward the man at the railing, standing as if frozen in time. Jack did not look; he was staring at Ianto in shock.

"They're all dead?" he asked. "All because…because you never joined Torchwood?"

"Talk about pressure," Ianto murmured. He rubbed his hands along his legs and stood. "Right. So that's it. Now you know what's going on. We should find the Doctor, get back to our own timeline."

Jack reached out for his hand and pulled him back. "Wait. I still don't understand. Are you really going to leave Torchwood when we get back?"

Ianto stared down at him, once again trying not to read anything into Jack's tone or the look in his eyes. He remembered what the Doctor had said about him and Jack and pushed it from his mind, refusing to believe it, that there was more there than either of them knew. "I don't know," he answered. "I guess I have something to think about now that I've seen the possibilities."

"By yourself," Jack said. "On Christmas."

Ianto sighed. "What do you want from me, Jack? It's Christmas Eve and I've just experienced a fairly major existential crisis. I think I've earned the right to wallow a bit."

"I don't want you to wallow," Jack said, standing when it became clear Ianto wasn't going to sit again. "I want you to be happy. I heard what you said, that you're not happy. Is that what you want—a regular job, a girlfriend, a normal life?"

Ianto glanced around, his gaze finally resting at something over Jack's shoulder. "Maybe it's not about what I _do_ want, because most days I really don't know, but what I _don't_ want."

"You don't want to be with Torchwood anymore," said Jack. "You don't want to lie and risk your life, get hurt and lose people. You don't want to… to be with me anymore."

"It's not about you," Ianto replied wearily. "Not really. It's just…the circumstances. I don't want the circumstances anymore—the conditions that come with Torchwood." He paused. "With you."

"What conditions? I've never put any conditions on our relationship—"

"That's just it, Jack!" Ianto exclaimed, throwing up his hands and pacing. "We don't really have a relationship, do we? At least, most of the time. There are times when I think…" He trailed off, refusing to put words to those treacherous thoughts. "But the truth is that it's not…we're just…oh, forget it!" He started to walk away, unable to articulate all the things he'd been throwing at the Doctor earlier. There were reasons he and Jack didn't talk about things like this: they were both rubbish at it.

Of course Jack followed him, catching up quickly and grabbing his elbow to stop him. "Ianto, stop. Please. Look, I heard what you said to the Doctor about me leaving…and you must know, I have no plans to leave!"

"That doesn't mean you won't," Ianto replied, pulling his arm away. "Either you'll have to go to save the world, or you'll want to go, when I'm no longer interesting, when I grow old, when I—"

Jack stopped him with a searing kiss, his favorite way of solving most problems. For a moment Ianto gave into it, letting the passion he felt for Jack flow freely. Then he remembered that he was angry and pulled back. To his surprise, Jack looked angry as well.

"You need to have more faith in me," Jack growled. "I have no plans to leave you anytime soon. It's not fair to simply assume that I will."

"How can you not?" Ianto snapped. "It's the _circumstances_ , Jack. Not you. It's our utterly mad situation—you're an immortal time traveler from the future, I'm just an average Welsh bloke working for an organization which offers a piss-poor lifespan and even worse retirement package. The _situation_ sucks."

"All of a sudden?" asked Jack. "Or is this something you've been feeling for a while?"

"I don't know," Ianto waved it off, unable to say when he'd started feeling so negative. Although, if he really thought about it, it went back to injuring his shoulder at the warehouse, to Jack's emotionally charged confrontation with Gwen, followed by Owen's untimely death and resurrection. And though they'd all come to terms with Owen's unique situation, the one with Gwen had not changed—even her wedding had been awkward at times—and then Ianto had reinjured his shoulder and his mum had died and his sister wouldn't leave him alone and Jack—

"It's too much," he whispered, shoulders sagging. "Everything, all of it—my shoulder and my mother and my sister and you and Gwen and Owen and Torchwood. I can't do it anymore, Jack. I don't think I _want_ to do this anymore."

Jack looked so distraught that Ianto felt bad for making the other man feel that way. He bit back another sigh, too tired to do anything else but stand there, wishing he were home alone instead of stuck in a timeline that didn't really exist. Staring at the ground, he tried to think of a way to end the conversation and return to the Tardis. It was as he was trying to put the words together that Jack stepped forward and embraced him, pulling him close and holding him tight. Ianto stiffened, but Jack held fast and even started rocking them. Ianto refused to break down.

"Jack, we should go—" he started, but Jack pressed their cheeks together and stopped him.

"Stop. We have a time machine, which means we have time." Ianto could feel Jack smiling against him, but it quickly became serious once more. "I'm sorry you feel this way," Jack said softly. "Will you let me help?"

"I don't think there's anything you can do," said Ianto. "I don't want to feel this way, but I can't help it."

"Circumstances," Jack murmured, stepping back just a little to gaze into Ianto's eyes. Ianto nodded. "It all adds up. You reached the breaking point. On Christmas, of all days."

"And apparently it doesn't get better," Ianto replied bitterly. "The Doctor said in a week you'll be talking me off a tall building."

Jack's eyes went wide and he pulled Ianto tight against him once more. "Don't say that. He might have seen it, but that doesn't mean it happens."

"No, I'm not so good at roofs," Ianto replied dryly. But the quip earned him a glare from Jack.

"It's not something to joke about! I don't think I could …that I would …" He let his eyes slip closed. "God, Ianto, I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known it was so bad."

"I didn't know it was so bad," Ianto murmured. "Until I looked at the Bay and thought about it. Until I nicked some of Owen's pills, popped another, and thought about it some more."

Jack frowned. "Another pill?" he asked. Ianto ignored him.

"The thing is…I don't think I could. I can run down aliens through the dark alleys of Cardiff, but I'm too much of a coward to end it all, no matter how easy and clean. I just want the circumstances to change."

Jack sagged against him. "Which is why you're thinking about leaving Torchwood."

"Torchwood dictates my life. It's the only way to change the situation." Ianto paused. "Would you let me?"

Jack was quiet for so long that Ianto started to regret asking the question. He stepped away from Jack and nodded his acceptance of Jack's silence.

"Never mind. You don't have to answer that."

"Ianto…" Jack ran a hand through his hair before he met Ianto's eyes again. "I would do anything for you. I know you don't believe that, but it's the truth. _Anything._ Even if that meant letting you leave Torchwood for a normal life…memories and all."

"I believe you," Ianto whispered. "But sometimes it's not enough, when everything else is falling apart."

The silence stretched between them once more, until it was broken by the shrill sound of a mobile phone, apparently coming from Jack's coat pocket—the one standing by the railing, cigarette dangling from his lips as he started in surprise.

"What the hell do they want now?" he muttered as he answered. "Harkness."

Ianto strained to hear what was being said, but only heard something about the big glass building before sirens interrupted the peaceful sounds of the bay. He glanced at his Jack, who was frowning.

"Something's wrong," Jack murmured, watching as his other self pocketed his phone, tossed his fag into the water, and sprinted off toward the Senedd. Ianto stared after him, wanting to follow but unsure about leaving. Jack actually took a step forward before the Doctor came running up behind them.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, dashing by them. "Run!"

And for the second time, Ianto followed the man in spite of his doubts, this time with Jack by his side.

* * *

Author's Note:

I hope to wrap this up next week with one final part. If everyone cooperates, of course. Thank you for all the reviews, I really appreciate it and hope you enjoy the rest of the story! Thank you for reading and happy holidays!


	4. Part Four

Part Four

Ianto ran beside Jack, following the Doctor toward the Senedd. Something was happening, and if the other Jack had been called to deal with it, it must be Torchwood related. Ianto realized he was about to watch from the sidelines, unable to do anything. He wasn't sure whether he was glad to not be dealing with the crisis, or if his fingers were already itching for a stun gun and a scanner.

There was a large Rift opening on the steps to the Senedd, multi-colored light undulating through the rip in space-time. Ianto glanced at Jack, who shrugged helplessly as he stared at the scene before them, while the Doctor appeared curious and interested. The crowd had backed away from the lights, but the other Jack was standing directly in front, scanning it with his wrist strap. He murmured something under his breath, then frowned and glanced toward the glass-walled assembly building when the crowd let out a collective gasp.

A large, exceptionally hairy humanoid exited the building, clearly some sort of leader from both his uniform and the aura of confidence about him. Behind him walked two dozen human hostages, most slightly dirty and bruised with their hands bound together and surrounded by a dozen more aliens holding some sort of energy weapon at their backs to keep them in line.

"Githians," Ianto murmured, watching in confusion. He'd dealt with them before, but the aliens he'd met had been nothing like the aggressive group before him now. When Jack had left with his Doctor, it had fallen to the team to handle things on their own, particularly when it came to interacting with displaced aliens and time travelers. Normally Jack had taken the lead, his experience giving him the edge, even though he'd been reluctant to reveal how he knew so much about aliens and the future. With Jack gone, Ianto had found himself propelled into a more diplomatic role on several cases, a part he had played well at the time, but that had confirmed his desire to work behind the scenes. The situation with the Githians had been one such case.

They had landed with a bang in Bute Park, but fortunately Tosh had picked up their ship and Torchwood had been there to meet them with UNIT backup. Ianto had found an old file on the race, with a hand written note that he'd recognized as Jack's script. _"Good people, but they do not interact with humans until at least the 26_ _th_ _century. Send them back until then with several cases of grape juice."_ So Ianto'd gone in prepared, stopping at Tesco to stow several cases in the boot of the SUV before arriving at the park.

Gwen had tried, she really had. Yet for some reason the Githian leader had not taken her seriously. Perhaps it was because she had talked around the issue so much, in that tone of condescending apology that often set the team's nerves on edge. Ianto had also sensed her uncertainty and suspected the Githians had as well. It had been her first experience as the lead in such a situation, and while she could chase down a Weevil and stun it like few others, first contact diplomacy was apparently something she'd yet to learn.

The Githian leader had kept looking toward Ianto, until Owen had pushed him forward with a murmured, "Get us out of this, already." Apologizing to Gwen, he'd set aside his own anxiety and focused on being polite but direct in informing the leader who they were and what they did. He'd then informed them that in the future humans and Githians would be close allies, but that according to their records, this did not happen for another five hundred years. With regret for asking them to leave, he did exactly that, explaining that they were only trying to avoid altering history, not escape a future relationship between their races. Somehow, the leader had accepted his words; perhaps the case of grape juice, brought out by Owen at Ianto's signal, had helped. Either way, the Githians had left peacefully, the scene had been covered up successfully, and Ianto had added a note to the file that yes, they did like grape juice, and that they appreciated a direct but non-patronizing approach.

The Githians on the steps of the Senedd before him now appeared angry, upset, and anything but understanding and accepting. The other Jack was speaking to the leader, both of them gesturing fervently, voices rising. They were arguing, and Ianto could pick up the tone of the threats exchanged even if he couldn't understand the words themselves. He glanced at the Doctor.

"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "This is nothing like our experience with them in the park. They were peaceful, tolerant, fair. Why are they acting like this now?"

"Because you weren't there to explain the situation to them nine months ago. And neither was Jack." Jack turned to the Doctor and listened. "So when they landed in the park, UNIT met them instead. The captain in charge was particularly belligerent, the situation escalated rapidly, and all the Githians were captured or killed, their ship confiscated."

Jack nodded in understanding. "And these have returned for revenge." The Doctor tipped his head, but Ianto still didn't understand.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because they were wronged," Jack explained. "They're hot-headed, but always fair. They have a strong sense of loyalty and justice. UNIT killed their people, so they're here to do the same. Their honor demands it."

"An eye for an eye," the Doctor murmured. "Some things are not unique to humans."

Ianto turned back toward the confrontation on the stairs and frowned. "So you're telling me this is my fault as well?"

"You weren't there the first time to negotiate a successful end to the situation," the Doctor replied. "This is the result."

"Why isn't Jack—that Jack—handling it better?" Ianto demanded. "He wrote the file I used when I spoke to them in the park! I was only following his directions!"

Jack sighed sadly. "I wrote that file over fifty years ago. He's such a mess he probably doesn't even remember writing it."

"And you're not there to remind him," the Doctor murmured. "Or to counsel diplomatic negotiations. Watch." He motioned them forward, closer to the scene playing out before them, so that they could hear what was being said.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your ship, but these people had nothing to do with it," the other Jack said, sounding impatient and exasperated as he spoke to the Githian. "I had nothing to do with it! You can't expect us to offer up innocent civilians as payment."

"We can and we will," the Githian replied, eyes narrowing. "Our customs demand justice and equality in all things, including life and death. We will take one life for each death we suffered at your hands."

Jack's hand went to his Webley, and the alien stiffened, fingers brushing along his own weapon. "I can't let you do that," he snapped. "Our customs are different."

"You have no choice," the alien replied. "You will surrender—"

They were interrupted by a disturbance among the captives. One man had broken free of his bonds and had tackled the nearest alien, holding him down and shouting at a nearby woman to escape. "Go, Megan! Run!"

It was his other self, and Ianto watched in sick fascination as a woman broke away to burst through the open space his other self had created for her to escape. The Githian leader barked an order, and a gun snapped up instantly within his ranks and fired. The woman fell dead without a sound, a searing hole through her chest.

The other Ianto screamed, a sound of excruciating pain ripping from his throat as he slammed the head of the alien he'd subdued into the ground with a crunch and then launched himself at the next nearest captor. The alien reacted instinctively and slammed the butt of her gun hard against the man's head, and he collapsed, blood flowing freely from his temple as he wept on the ground and the alien stood over him, weapon pointed at his back.

"Stop!" shouted the other Jack, raising his Webley toward the leader, who raised his own gun in turn. All eyes turned toward the tense confrontation.

"Get up, get up," Ianto murmured under his breath. Everyone's attention was on the other Jack and the Githian leader; it was the perfect opportunity to strike, to grab a gun and take out as many aliens as possible, create a distraction for Jack to swoop in and save the day. Ianto was already calculating the risks, outlining his own plan of action. He felt rather than saw the Doctor shake his head.

"He doesn't have your training," the Doctor said. "He's never been held hostage, never held a gun, never seen an alien." Ianto glared at him. "He has your courage, your determination, but he simply doesn't know what to do."

"Shut up," Ianto hissed. "This is bad enough without your commentary."

"This is your life as it could have been," the Doctor replied. "I'm simply telling you the facts."

"Back off, Doc," Jack murmured, earning a look of surprise from Ianto. "I'm not enjoying this much either."

Ianto quickly turned back toward the confrontation on the steps, where the other Jack and the alien leader circled one another, guns still drawn. It was frustrating to watch. On the one hand, Ianto could imagine his own Jack reacting impulsively, just like his counterpart, yet he'd have come up with a plan immediately, and his improvised actions almost always worked out. The Jack pointing his gun at the Githian leader clearly had no idea what to do next other than shoot. He looked both furious and lost.

"He doesn't know what to do," Jack murmured. "He only wants to pull the trigger."

"Because that's what he usually does now," the Doctor replied. "He hasn't been tempered by a certain pair of Welsh team members. You have."

Ianto realized that the Doctor was talking about both him and Gwen, who more often than him urged Jack to non-violent action, even when it was clearly necessary and the alternative was more dangerous. Ianto at least accepted when the situation was inevitable. Yet for this Jack, Gwen was dead and Ianto had never joined Torchwood. This Jack had lost his entire team and had been tortured for a year at the hands of the Master with no one to take care of him when he'd returned. He was a broken man who wanted to do the right thing but didn't know how.

"Surrender the bounty," the Githian leader demanded. "Or even more will die. Their blood will be on your hands."

Ianto thought he saw the other Jack's hands start to shake. He slowly cocked the Webley, glancing around the area before landing on the other Ianto and catching the other man's eyes. They exchanged a look and a nod, and without warning the steps of the Senedd exploded into battle.

Jack shot first, the Githian leader going down with a bullet straight through his forehead. The hostages screamed, except for the other Ianto, who leapt up and started wrestling with his captor for the gun. Two other hostages turned on their captors as well, while several others tried to escape. Those who ran were gunned down by the Githians, indiscriminately firing at both the captives and the crowd. The air was filled with the sounds of screaming and dying.

Without warning the Githians started falling, and to his shock Ianto saw a company of UNIT soldiers advancing from around the Senedd, dressed in full battle gear. They took down the Githians without mercy, and Ianto was fairly sure a few hostages fell to friendly fire as well.

The other Ianto had taken cover with a weapon but clearly didn't know how to use it. He glanced up just in time to see the other Jack lean out from his own scanty cover behind a post and take aim at a nearby Githian. A large energy weapon was pointed at the other Jack from the side, where he couldn't see it. Before it even fired, the other Ianto leapt out from his cover with a shout, taking the blast in the side as he tackled Jack to the ground.

His Jack stared at the scene in shock, then looked wide-eyed to Ianto. Why was he so surprised? Of course Ianto would take a bullet—or a blaster—for him. The other Ianto didn't know Jack couldn't die and had jumped out to save him from instinct, the same instinct that drove Ianto to protect others, even Jack. He smiled sadly at Jack and reached out for his hand. "You know I'd do the same thing," he said quietly.

"You shouldn't," Jack replied, his voice thick. "I'll always come back."

Ianto shrugged and glanced back to where the other Ianto had rolled off Jack. "I know. But apparently it's our instinct."

"To serve and protect," the Doctor murmured. "Even those you don't know and love."

Ianto gave him a sharp look over his shoulder. Before them, the other Jack had taken the critically injured Ianto in his arms and dragged him to safety. But it didn't look good. The other man's entire left side was burned black, and he was clearly going into shock as he gasped and shook in Jack's arms.

"Hey," said the other Jack. "Stay with me, okay? We'll get you help, just stay with me, please. What's your name?"

The other Ianto looked up into Jack's eyes. "Ianto Jones, sir. General assistant to AM Williams."

"Oh, love the accent," said the other Jack. "All those beautiful Welsh vowels."

"That'd be because I'm a Welshman," the man choked.

"And a damn brave one," Jack murmured. He ran his hand through the other Ianto's hair as if to calm him. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Nowhere, unless you count growing up on the estate," Ianto replied. He drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm not going to make it, am I?"

"I'll do my best," Jack replied gently, but it was obvious that the man was going to die.

"What were they?" asked the other Ianto. Blood trickled from his lips.

"They were pissed off and looking for a fight," the other Jack replied. "But I think it's over." He glanced up and grimaced. The entire area was full of bodies, dozens of them: hostages, Githians, innocent members of the crowd who hadn't left soon enough, even a few UNIT soldiers. It was a bloodbath of a magnitude that Ianto hadn't seen since Canary Wharf, and he could only imagine the other Jack's thoughts, having seen far worse.

"I wish I could have done more," the other Ianto coughed.

"Hey, you did great, kid," the other Jack said, and Ianto was surprised to see tears in the man's eyes. Glancing sideways at his Jack, he saw fear and heartache, and once again squeezed Jack's hand.

"What were they really?" the other Ianto whispered. "Please tell me."

The other Jack sighed. "They were aliens. You, Mr. Jones, helped stopped some very bad aliens."

The man on the ground actually grinned. "I knew it. I knew they were real. Aliens, that is. You can't live in Cardiff without seeing and believing some weird things." He coughed up blood. "You're Torchwood, aren't you?" When Jack nodded, Ianto continued. "Then tell me one more thing. Are there good ones out there? Good aliens?"

"Yes," whispered the other Jack, choking up. "Yes there are. And someday humans will meet them, and it will be amazing. The future is beautiful, Ianto Jones. Nothing like this."

The dying man smiled. "Thank you," he said, his voice even weaker. "Even if you're lying, thank you."

The other Jack leaned down and placed a kiss on Ianto's forehead. "I'm not lying. I've seen it."

The Welshman reached up toward Jack's face. "Who are you?"

"I'm no one," said Jack. "No one important. But you can call me Jack."

The other Ianto's hand brushed across Jack's cheek and landed on the lapels of his greatcoat. "I like the coat, Jack."

The other Jack grinned. "I like the suit, Mr. Jones."

Next to him, the real Jack turned around, unable to watch. Ianto, however, couldn't tear his eyes from the scene before him. He was witnessing his own death. He'd always known he'd die young working for Torchwood, yet even in this other life where he hadn't joined Torchwood, had never met Jack, he was still dying young, and in Jack's arms. It was surreal.

The other Ianto took a shuddering breath and let his eyes slip closed. "Thank you," he breathed out, and with that he was gone. It was simple, peaceful. The other Jack pulled him into an embrace and placed a chaste kiss to the dead man's lips.

"You're welcome, Ianto Jones. I think I would have really liked you."

The real Jack bit back a sob and left, dashing away before either Ianto or the Doctor could stop him. He was clearly upset, and understandably so. In fact, Ianto wondered why he himself wasn't gibbering like a fool and running away as fast as he could away from Torchwood. Yet he felt oddly calm and at peace. Something about the scene touched him, even comforted him. He knew what to do.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," the Doctor said quietly, coming up next to him. "I don't actually know how things play out in places like this once I arrive, you know. I just get a bit of background."

"You said I was getting a coffeemaker for Christmas," Ianto murmured.

"Logical assumption, lucky guess," the Doctor shrugged. "If I had known this was going to happen…"

"If you'd known I'd have to watch my own death, you wouldn't have brought me here?" asked Ianto. "And then what? I'd be back on the quay listening to you drone on and on until those pills looked even better. Or I'd end up on the roof, like you said."

"But this…" The Doctor sighed. "I'm not sure it's something either one of you should have seen. That anyone should see."

Ianto shook his head. "You may not think so, but in a strange way, it helped. I think, however, that we need to get back to Jack. I suspect he's quite upset."

The Doctor nodded and motioned them back toward the Plass where the TARDIS waited. Ianto was fairly sure Jack had gone back to the ship to wait for them alone, too overcome by the scene before him—the other Jack's failure, the other Ianto's death—to watch anymore. Ianto only hoped it had not had the opposite effect on Jack as it had on him.

"And why aren't you?" asked the Doctor curioustly. "More upset? Most men would be quite unnerved to witness their own death."

"Oh, I'm unnerved," Ianto replied. "Bordering on the edge of a full-blown meltdown, in fact. But it's given me insight I never expected."

"In what way?" asked the Doctor. "If you don't mind my asking, of course. I was trying to help, after all, and it would be nice to know whether I've gone and made it worse instead."

Ianto nodded. He took a deep breath before answering, trying to frame his thoughts into words. "I realize I won't wake up tomorrow and suddenly feel better about everything…about my mum and my sister and my shoulder, about Jack and Gwen and Torchwood. It won't just disappear, at least without a massive dose of Retcon, and I've never wanted that." He paused. "But seeing what I just saw…I know what to do when we get back. What my life is meant to be."

He hurried ahead of the Doctor, who huffed in annoyance.

"And what's that, Mr. Jones?" he called.

Ianto continued in silence, smiling to himself. He knew the answer…and the Doctor would simply have to wait. First he needed to see Jack.

* * *

Author's Note:

And yet again, the story surprises me. I apologize for the long delay, but while I had an idea of what was going to happen in this chapter, I couldn't see exactly _how_ it was going to happen, if that makes sense. And then twice as I was writing this I was totally surprised by where it was going—by Ianto's reactions in particular, and most especially at the end. I hope you were able to follow it well enough and enjoyed it even though it's probably not what you expected. Neither did I. But the story isn't over—one more part to wrap it up! Thank you so much to Taamar for consulting, and thank to everyone else for reading!


	5. Part Five

Part Five

Ianto wandered the interior of the TARDIS with no idea of where he might find Jack. The Doctor had said the ship would guide him where he needed to go, but Ianto wasn't sure whether he was being facetious or not. If they were back home in their own time, Ianto would have looked for Jack on a roof, or perhaps the gun range; other times he retreated to his bunker. Ianto was fairly certain the ship did not have a gun range, and he had no idea if Jack had his own room, so he wandered. It gave him a chance to organize his thoughts, to try and process what had happened at the Senedd building.

He had witnessed his own death, and it had been terrifying yet strangely enlightening. Some small part of him couldn't help but feel relieved that even though his other self hadn't joined Torchwood, he had still shown the courage and wherewithal to fight back against the aliens threatening the Senedd. In a warped way, Ianto was proud of his other self. And though watching the other man die in Jack's arms had been extremely upsetting, at the same time it had also been…comforting. It was as if no matter what life he lived, it was meant to happen that way. With Jack.

But then he thought about all the other things that had happened because this other version of him had not joined Torchwood. Gwen's murder before she even had a chance to join the team, Tosh's death in the countryside, Owen's pain and misery over losing so much. And Jack—broken, grieving, lost. More than anything, Ianto had a hard time believing that he had made such a difference in Jack's life. Yes, he had tried to be there for Jack, tried so hard to be someone Jack could trust and confide in and look to for support, but there were others who could do that as well. Only in Ianto's alternate reality, Jack had no one; he had lost everyone else, all, however indirectly and unintentionally, because of Ianto.

Though it perhaps confirmed his role in Jack's life, it did little to confirm his place in Jack's heart. But maybe that wasn't the point. The Doctor had said Ianto made a difference in many lives, especially Jack's. Could he really give that up now? Was everything else so bad that he would abandon Jack, his team, and his duty for the possibility of that normal life he'd glimpsed? Did he crave the ordinary so much after all the extraordinary things he had seen and done? Did he really need love and commitment when it would only bring pain and heartbreak again?

Deep down he knew the answers to his questions, though it was hard to reconcile them the more he thought about things. No, he did not want to abandon Jack and the others after all that he had seen and experienced, but there were times when he longed for a normal life more than anything. Yet he suspected he would grow tired of the ordinary existence of a non-Torchwood agent, however much he wanted love and happiness to be a part of it. It was as if it was one trade-off after another, and he felt vaguely resentful that he couldn't have it all.

The biggest problem was that he knew his feelings could change at a moment's notice given how depressed he'd been for the last several weeks. He'd walked away from the Senedd convinced he knew what to do, and already he was questioning his resolve. It wasn't something he was going to come out of without time and effort, and it certainly wasn't going to happen overnight after a trip to some alternate reality with a man he resented more than admired. Today he might want one thing; in a week he might want something else. He needed to find the solution that would best accommodate his moods as he worked through everything that was troubling him. Because in the end, he did not want to die, not yet. That much he knew.

Ianto almost gave up trying to find Jack and considered going back to the Doctor, but to his surprise, he finally found Jack in a small kitchenette, sitting at a table for two with a cup of tea cradled in his hands and a second one sitting on the table opposite him.

"May I?" Ianto asked, motioning at the chair, and Jack nodded. He sipped at his tea and then slid the second cup closer to Ianto.

"For you," he said. "Thought you might need it after seeing something like that."

Ianto raised an eyebrow as he picked up the mug. It was his favorite blend, prepared exactly as he liked it. "How'd you know it would be me sitting here and not the Doctor?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "He's even worse at talking about things like this than we are." He took a deep breath and nodded, as if working up the nerve to keep going. "And I can only imagine you need it after ...well, that."

Ianto smiled into his mug as he sipped the warm liquid. "It was a bit surreal," he replied. Jack cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Surreal? Ianto, it was awful. You seem quite calm about it, more than…"

He trailed off, and Ianto finished for him. "More than you?"

"More than I expected," Jack corrected him. "You just watched yourself die a gruesome death at the hands of alien invaders. Most men would be sobbing into their cups by now."

"Oh, do we have anything stronger I can sob into?" Ianto asked. "A good scotch, perhaps? Or a double bourbon?"

"Ianto…"

"Jack," Ianto said, setting down his mug. "It's not as bad as you think. Yes, it was upsetting and yes, I still feel very close to the edge…but strangely enough, not as close as I was an hour or two ago."

"Why?"

Ianto shrugged, because it didn't make much sense to him either. "Seeing that helped me step back a bit, I suppose."

"How's that possible?" Jack asked, his voice laced with clear doubt.

"I know I should probably be running as fast as I can the other way, as far from Torchwood as I can," Ianto began. He waited for Jack's response, which was unexpectedly dejected.

"I'd understand," he murmured. "You asked me before, and I told you I'd do anything for you. I meant it. If you want to leave Torchwood, you can leave with your memories intact and everything. I trust you." He met Ianto's gaze with blue eyes bright with sorrow.

"The thing is, I'm not sure if leaving Torchwood is the right answer," Ianto said quietly. He was thinking out loud now, trying to put into words the things he felt, but it didn't make complete sense to him and it was going to be even more difficult to articulate. Jack took a sip of tea and motioned for him to continue, so he tried.

"I meant what I said earlier too. I'm tired, Jack. I miss my family, I'm addicted to fucking pain pills, and there is nothing about Torchwood that isn't an emotional roller coaster."

"Even—" Jack started, and Ianto cut him off.

"Yes, even that," Ianto said, staring down into his mug. "Even us."

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered.

"It's not your fault, not really," Ianto replied with a shrug. "It's who we are. Sometimes I wonder if we're entirely compatible, when you really think about it."

Jack was gazing at him thoughtfully. Finally he shook his head. "No, we're more alike than you think, but sometimes the circumstances make it difficult." He paused and let his head fall. "I make it difficult."

Ianto couldn't help but snort. "I hardly think you're the only difficult one. I'm well aware of my own shortcomings, especially when my sister likes to keep pointing them out."

"Well, she's wrong," Jack said, leaning forward. "You're amazing. So talk to me. You said Torchwood is an emotional roller coaster. How so, other than the obvious?"

Ianto bit his tongue, then forced himself to relax his jaw, to let the words out. What harm would it do now? Honesty was perhaps all he had left.

"It's exhausting, for one," he began. "Don't you ever get tired of it all? The running, the chasing, the killing, and the dying?"

"I do," said Jack, nodding. "And then I think about what we're doing and why, and I think about my team, and I keep going."

"Your team." Ianto ran a hand through his hair. "The team is falling apart again, Jack. Owen's still dead, Tosh is still pining after him, Gwen is…" He trailed off, not wanting to come across as a jealous lover and treading carefully. "Gwen is still difficult. And I want so badly to fix it all, because that's my job, to take care of the team, but I can't. I'm a train wreck waiting to happen myself."

Jack was staring at the table between them. "I didn't think it was that bad," he whispered, sounding anguished.

"It's not," Ianto replied with a bitter huff. "Not really. It's probably pretty normal for us. We're Torchwood, of course we were bound to end up with a zombie on the team. Unrequited zombie romances and overzealous coworkers just makes it more interesting."

His attempt at levity was met with a rebuke from Jack. "You're deflecting."

"I know," said Ianto. "And I'm sorry. Mostly, I think it's…well, it's me. I'm the problem. Which is why leaving might not make a difference. I'll just take my problems with me."

"You're not a problem," Jack said earnestly. "You're seeing things from a dark place right now, that's all. I've been there. I know it's hard."

Ianto nodded over the lump in his throat.

"What about me?" Jack asked. "I wasn't in that list. What about us?"

"What do you want me to say?" asked Ianto wearily. "That we're sunshine and rainbows?"

"The truth would be a start," Jack replied. "I know this…us…is something that's bothering you, you already said so. And I want to work it out. Tell me."

"It's hard being with you, you know," Ianto started softly. He saw Jack nod out of the corner of his eye, as if agreeing, but also saw the slight slump of his shoulders. "And it's not because of who you are." He took Jack's hand in his own and squeezed. "Please believe me. You are an amazing man. I know you don't believe it, but you are the best man I've ever known, and I am so immensely grateful for having met and known you."

Jack swallowed thickly and nodded, avoiding Ianto's eyes. Ianto sat back again. "But you're also so much more experienced, in every way possible. You're from another time, another place, where you grew up with completely different ideas about life…about relationships. I know you see things differently when it comes to us backwards 21st century folk, and I try so hard to accept that, to accept some of the things that bother me as a product of my own time and upbringing, but sometimes I wish we had the same morals, same beliefs about things. The same goals, same dreams. Only we don't, because we're from such different worlds, and sometimes that's hard."

He was talking around the real issues, things he thought he had accepted about being with Jack in whatever way he was with Jack, but he couldn't bring himself to be any clearer for fear of losing that elusive, undefined something. He wondered if Jack understood, and suspected he did, but that Jack would probably talk around it as well.

Jack crossed his hands over his chest, studying Ianto with a frown. "I don't believe we're really that different," he said. "I think, deep down, most people want the same things from life, no matter what planet they're from, no matter what century they live in. Love, happiness, purpose, acceptance. It's how we prioritize and pursue those things that separates us, and in one way, we are exactly alike."

"You mean Torchwood," Ianto replied, trying not to sound bitter, because he wasn't, not really. "We're both Torchwood. We've got that in common, at least."

"In some ways, yes. Let me ask you this." He leaned forward. "You seem to think I want something different than you, but do you even know what you want—what you really, truly want from your life? You said before it was more about what you _didn't_ want. So what _do_ you want?" Just as Ianto had remained vague, so did Jack.

Ianto was silent for a long time, trying to pull together his thoughts. He still didn't know what he wanted, or maybe he was afraid to think it yet alone say it, but maybe Jack's words were a starting point. "I suppose it's like you said. Acceptance. Purpose. Happiness."

"Do you see that happening with Torchwood?" Jack asked, the unsaid "With me?" hanging in the air between them.

"I will reluctantly admit," Ianto began with a small smile, "that Torchwood has accepted me. It may be the only place that has accepted me, and will ever accept me, after all I've seen and done. And it's given me purpose as well. Meaning, after a rather directionless life and a devastating loss. I think that's what I saw more than anything in my…untimely death back there."

"You saw meaning?" Jack asked skeptically, and Ianto nodded.

"Yes. I saw a man who had never joined Torchwood but who still fought to do the right thing, to help people. Who sacrificed himself for others and died a noble death trying to protect the planet." He smiled sheepishly. "That's sort of how I always envisioned it ending up, and to see it happening without my even joining Torchwood is almost a…relief. It's like I was meant to do this, to try and save people."

"I think you were," Jack murmured. "Because you do a hell of a job at it every week."

"Yes, well, I've also made my fair share of mistakes. People have died because of me."

"So Torchwood is your penance?" Jack asked sharply.

"Isn't it yours?" Ianto tossed back.

"Touché," Jack said. "Not so different in that either, then." He motioned at Ianto's mug. "Refill?"

"No thanks," said Ianto. "It was good, but it was enough."

"All right," Jack replied. "Acceptance and purpose. But you're not happy," Jack said, and Ianto shrugged.

"Not with the way things are, but I deep down I know they won't always be like this. Some of them, at least. Some I can change, others maybe not. There will always be Weevils and Rift alerts, after all. But…" He trailed off, tracing the condensation from the mug on the table with his fingers. But what? It was the things he knew he couldn't change that pulled him down.

"Could you be happy at Torchwood?" asked Jack. "If some of those other things change?"

"I don't know!" Ianto exclaimed. "Happiness is relative, isn't it? I'm happy enough every time we save the planet, but also thrilled with a free night to relax. I'm happy when I wake up next to you in the morning, when Owen remembers to file something correctly, when the cat on the quay rubs against my leg outside the tourist office and purrs. But then there are days like today."

"So what drove you out there today?" Jack asked.

"I already told you," Ianto sighed wearily. "Everything. Lying to my sister about working on Christmas only to end up alone. Stealing pills from Owen because my script ran out and the thought of not having any more terrifies me. Thinking about the next time I get injured, the next time you disappear, the next time someone dies but doesn't come back." He let his head fall into his hands and scrubbed at his hair in frustration. "What am I supposed to do about all that? How am I supposed to find happiness in the middle of such chaos?"

When he glanced up, he was surprised to see Jack kneeling in front of him, hands on his knees. The look in Jack's eyes almost made Ianto want to look away. "Let me help," Jack said softly.

"There's nothing you can do," Ianto replied. "It's my problem to deal with."

"Hey," said Jack, titling his chin. "Why is it your problem to deal with and yours alone? We're a team, we take care of one another."

Ianto shook his head sharply. "If you tell the others any of this," he started, and Jack stopped him.

"I meant us," he said. "Me and you. We take care of one another. Or at least, you've taken care of me so many times, I want to do the same for you."

Ianto's eyes slipped closed. "Please don't make promises you can't keep," he said. He felt rather than saw Jack's indignation.

"First of all, I haven't made any promises. Mostly because I don't need to, but if that's what you need, then I promise to be there, to listen, to help, to do whatever I can to make this better." He ran a hand across Ianto's cheek. "Let me try to make you happy."

Ianto placed his own on top of Jack's. "I know you can," he said, then dropped his hand. "That's part of the problem." Jack did make him happy, but there was so much holding them back, too much keeping them apart. Jack had just made a promise of sorts, but was it the one Ianto wanted? Was it one Jack could keep?

Once again Jack surprised him with his response. Instead of the dejection or anger Ianto had seen earlier, this time Jack reacted with determination. "It's not the problem, Ianto. It's the solution. _We're_ the solution." He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Ianto. "You never said anything about love, you know. Acceptance and purpose and happiness, but not love."

"Because I don't want to go there," Ianto replied. "It's not an option, not right now."

"You mean for us?" Jack asked. "Of course it is."

"You don't mean that," Ianto snapped. "Don't say it when you don't mean it."

"Don't tell me what to say!" Jack snapped back. "I'm a grown man, and I will say and do what I want, when I want, with whom I want. You may not believe this, but you make me happy, and I want to make you happy too. For as long as we have together."

Ianto stared at him, unable to believe Jack's words. "Stop," he whispered. "Just stop. I thought I knew what to do when I came in here, but now I'm even more confused."

Jack sat back on his heels and blew out a long breath. "You really were going to leave, weren't you?"

Ianto jumped up and started pacing. "Honestly? No." He stopped and placed his hands on a nearby counter, staring at the wall before him. "When I saw myself out there, I knew what my life was supposed to be." He turned to face Jack, who had stood and was watching warily. "Saving the world and dying in your arms. I can't imagine anything else, nor anything more worth the pain and suffering of Torchwood. If I quit, I could very well end up jumping in front of a bullet to save some random stranger from a mugging and dying alone, but if I stayed, it could with you."

Jack toed the ground before glancing up. "That's sort of morbid, you know."

"It's Torchwood, I'm allowed morbid thoughts," Ianto replied with no real spite. "But now…how could I stay, how could I do that to…I know how I…but I didn't think you…" He blew out a breath in frustration, unable to finish a sentence. "You're actually making this harder!"

"How could you stay, knowing that I care?" Jack finished for him. "Because I do. I care so much I would do anything for you, even let you go. And I would be devastated." His voice cracked at the end, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "But I don't want you to end up jumping in front of a bullet and dying alone. I want to be with you, protect you as much as I can. So please stay." His last words came out as a whispered croak. "With me." Ianto glanced away, his resolve cracking once more.

"But—"

"No," said Jack, striding forward and standing close. "Leaving Torchwood now won't solve everything, you said it yourself. You're having problems with your family, so we'll talk to them and work it out. You take as much time as you need to grieve for your mother, and if I have to tell your sister to back off giving you a hard time about it, I will."

Ianto laughed through his nose. "Not sure I want to be there for that," he said. Jack grinned, then grew serious once again. He seemed to have found a determined confidence in his words that Ianto envied.

"We can talk to Owen, discreetly, about the pills. There are alternatives, and I can help you. I've been through it more times than you want to know."

Jack moved closer and took Ianto's hands, running his thumbs along Ianto's palms. "You can stand down from field duty a bit, take on more coordinating at the Hub. It would give you a chance to work through the other stuff and heal your shoulder without being reinjured a third time."

"No," said Ianto. "Not with Owen down. You know he can't go into the field as much now."

"And he can't be stay inside all the time either," Jack pointed out. "You could split things. He can take the easy retrievals—space junk and the like—and you can take the big bad aliens. Carefully, of course."

"Lucky me," Ianto murmured under his breath. Jack rolled his eyes and closed the distance between them.

"I understand that you're upset about Owen, and I can imagine some of the things you're not saying about Gwen, and I know you're worried about losing Tosh, but…I can only assure you that one of those things will never, ever be a problem, and the other two we can work through to keep an eye on them. Together."

"You drive a hard bargain, you know," Ianto said. Jack nodded.

"I'm trying. Because this is important. _You're_ important. You think we're so different, but we're not. I want the same things you want, but in many ways, I'm just too big a coward to go for it."

"Oh, that sounds familiar," Ianto replied. "Something else we have in common."

"Then maybe we should stop being cowards together," said Jack. "What do you say?"

Before Ianto could answer, the Doctor burst into the kitchen, halfway through a sentence before he realized he'd interrupted. "Oh," he said, stopping in his tracks. "I'm sorry. You're having a moment."

"Not really," said Ianto, stepping away. "We were having a talk, but I think we're ready to go back now." He glanced at Jack, who raised an eyebrow.

"Are we?" he asked softly, and Ianto nodded.

"Yes, I'm ready. Or I will be. Can I have a few days, maybe?" he asked, and Jack grinned.

"Absolutely. As long as you don't mind me taking some time off with you?" he asked.

"I'd like that," Ianto replied. "I should see my sister tomorrow. I'll talk to her." He held up a hand as Jack started to speak. "And if need be, I'll sic you on her next. And I should probably talk to Owen as well."

"He should be at the Hub if you want to see him tonight," Jack said, and Ianto cocked his head in surprise. "He was feeling pretty down, and the rest of you had left, so we were going to try that alien board game that came through the Rift and marathon the worst Christmas movies we could find."

"Sounds fun," Ianto murmured with a smile. "Mind if I join you?"

"I should warn you there's no Christmas dinner," said Jack. "I was going to heat up the leftovers from lunch and eat them as slowly as I could in front of Owen."

"As long as I get Tosh's curry, it's all good," said Ianto. He sighed. "Jack…"

Jack put his hands on Ianto's shoulders before embracing him. "It's going to be all right, Ianto. Really." He pulled back and looked into Ianto's eyes. "Just promise me one thing."

"Only one?" asked Ianto.

"It's a hard one," Jack replied. "Promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like this. Next time you're standing at the water thinking about it…next time you need a pill…okay?"

"I'll try," said Ianto, and he would. He would start by talking to Owen, as difficult as that would be. Even harder would be talking to his sister, but he would try. And rather than contemplate leaving again or even ending it all, he'd reach out next time he needed support. He had at least one person who had promised to help, and as much as Ianto hated accepting it, perhaps having Jack to lean on would get him through. Jack had got him through Lisa's death, after all.

"Well, now that's sorted, where are we heading?" asked the Doctor, bursting into their moment once more. "Any particular planet you fancy seeing? Or perhaps a certain time? There are still a few decades I haven't hit around here."

"Back to when we came from," said Jack with a grin. "And not too late, please."

The Doctor waved his hand as he left the kitchen. "I told you last time I couldn't get you back any sooner, Jack. Paradoxes make steering difficult."

Jack laughed as they followed the Doctor toward the control room of the TARDIS, where he fiddled with various knobs and levers, darted around and pushed some buttons, then stood up straight and pierced them with a look. "Are you sure, then? You're both welcome to stay a bit. "

"I'm sure," said Ianto, even though he wasn't. The thought of seeing another planet, as opposed to returning to the grey half-life he'd been leading, was suddenly quite appealing.

Jack seemed to sense Ianto's uncertainty in spite of his words, and reached out to squeeze Ianto's hands. "Yes, we're sure. We've got things to do and people to see there."

The Doctor flipped one last large lever, the ship lurched, and with a grin, he nodded. "Then here you are—Cardiff, and still Christmas." He pulled his glasses from his head and squinted at a nearby screen. "And it looks like you've got some folks waiting for you."

Ianto glanced over the Doctor's shoulder and exchanged a look with Jack. "It's the rest of the team."

Jack shrugged. "Owen must have called them. Come on, let's go convince them we're staying." He started for the door before he turned and hurried back to the Doctor. Enveloping him in a strong embrace, he pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," he said softly, though Ianto heard him clearly. "Thank you for helping him."

The Doctor stepped back, looking slightly awkward at the exchange. "Just remind me later on or it won't happen."

Jack looked mildly surprised, then shook his head. "Time travel. Gotta love it." He turned to Ianto. "Ready?"

Ianto stepped forward and held out his hand to the Doctor. "Thank you," he said. "I know I was a bit of a tosser when you first showed up, but thank you for showing me the possibilities."

"I hope it helped," the Doctor replied very seriously.

"What did Jack tell you when he reminded you about it?" asked Ianto, and the Doctor narrowed his eyes.

"You know I can't tell you the future, Mr. Jones," he said, but the edges of a smile were pulling at his lips. "Spoilers."

"It was worth a try," Ianto replied. "It did help, though. And now I can say that I've traveled with the Doctor."

"You're welcome to again," said the Doctor, eyeing him and then Jack. "Both of you. Something tells me the pair of you could be very interesting tumbling about in space and time."

"More of a disaster, I suspect," Ianto said dryly, before Jack could take him up on the offer. "And I need to work through some things before I think about taking on time travel."

The Doctor placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then good luck, Mr. Jones. I hope we meet again."

Ianto cocked his head. "You don't know?"

"I wouldn't tell you if I did!" the Doctor laughed. At the door, Jack actually groaned and rolled his eyes.

"I don't think I could stand more than a day with you two. Doctor, thanks again, see you around the future. Ianto, let's go reassure our cold friends."

Jack opened the door and stepped out without looking back. Ianto followed, finding himself surprisingly reluctant. It wasn't that he wanted to stay with the Doctor, or even that he rather liked the idea of exploring the vast reaches of space with Jack. Leaving the ship meant stepping back into reality, into a messy life full of grief and resentment and pain. Yes, Jack had promised to help, but Ianto had so many issues to work through that he was suddenly overwhelmed and didn't want to go.

Maybe that was the answer, then. Not go back to Torchwood, but not leave it, exactly. Take up the Doctor's offer and disappear for a while, travel until his head was on straight. Turning to look back at the Doctor, he gazed around the interior of the TARDIS and realized for the first time how much bigger it was on the inside. It appeared to be a simple police box, but once you stepped through the doorway, it was so much more. So much potential.

Sort of like his life, maybe. So much potential, which he'd never realize if he didn't step back into it, the good and the bad.

With one last nod at the Time Lord, Ianto followed Jack through the door, where he was immediately enveloped in a crushing embrace by Gwen. Tosh was tangled with Jack while Owen stood to the side looking both annoyed and relieved. Gwen and Tosh exchanged places, both of them still exclaiming over their disappearance and reappearance and where did they go and what happened and is everything okay? Ianto was rather stunned at the reception, but Jack laughed as he put an arm around Tosh and Gwen and pulled them both against him tight, reassuring them that he and Ianto were fine and back to stay.

"Welcome back, tea boy," said Owen quietly by his side. "Have fun gallivanting across the universe?"

Ianto turned toward the doctor. "Not exactly, no. Sort of a rough trip. What time is it?"

"It's Christmas morning," Gwen answered, stepping away from Jack. "Owen called us about eight hours ago and we've been waiting ever since."

"You've been up all night?" Ianto asked with a frown. "Why aren't you home celebrating?"

"It's still a bit early to celebrate," laughed Gwen. "And we were worried. Owen said you disappeared, and then Jack. We weren't sure…" She trailed off, looking sheepish.

"We weren't sure you'd be back any time soon," Owen finished for her. "But they insisted on coming in."

"We're so glad you're back," Tosh said quietly, appearing next to Ianto and linking her arm with hers. "Was it amazing? Did you see other planets, other times?"

Ianto exchanged a look with Jack, who silently inclined his head, indicating Ianto could answer as he pleased. Taking a deep breath, Ianto knew he couldn't tell them everything, but if he was going to start pulling his life back together, he didn't want to start it with more secrets and lies.

"Actually, we never left Cardiff," Ianto said, and the others looked surprised. "No, it's true. He took us to a sort of alternate reality, actually. Not quite amazing, but definitely eye-opening."

"Another reality?" asked Tosh. "Like, another dimension?"

"I don't know," Ianto replied with a shrug. "Not sure if it was even real. Remember the movie 'It's a Wonderful Life'?"

Owen rolled his eyes, but Tosh nodded in understanding. Gwen, of course, kept prodding. "So you saw another version of your life?"

"Something like that," Ianto murmured. "Like, I said—it was eye-opening. And that was it. Couldn't have been more than a few hours for us, and now we're back."

"I don't understand," said Gwen. "Why did you see an alternate version of your life? What's wrong with—"

"Leave it Gwen," Jack said wearily, his hand resting lightly on Ianto's lower back. "It was something we both needed to see, and now we're back. So you can all call it a night and get back to your regularly scheduled holiday."

The three of them glanced at one another, and each looked disappointed in their own way. Ianto wondered why in the world they would prefer to be outside in the cold winter instead of warm in their beds, waiting for Christmas morning.

"Really," he said. "Go home. We're fine."

"Yes, only…" started Tosh, then looked at Gwen and Owen for support.

"Only we're all up and we're all here, so why don't we start the day together?" Gwen asked. She glanced at her watch. "It's half five, we could get coffee and something to eat somewhere."

"It's Christmas morning, Gwen," said Owen. "Nothing is open. Nothing decent, anyway."

"Right," she said, looking disappointed. Tosh opened her mouth to speak, but shut it before she said anything. So Gwen tried again. "Then we'll go back to mine. I'm sure we can come up with something to eat at the flat, and Rhys won't mind starting Christmas a bit early."

Owen snorted while Jack shook his head. "You sure about that?" he asked, sounding skeptical. Gwen nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, and if he doesn't like it, tough. We've just spent the last eight hours worrying about you two. We can all curl up by the tree and drink coffee and you can tell us all about it!" She grinned, looking excited even so early in the morning, not even considering that Jack and Ianto might not want to tell the team all about their trip.

"I should go home," Tosh said. "I have to, er…"

"I'm not sure how much we can tell you," Jack started.

"And I don't want to know," said Owen. "Nor do I want to see Rhys's naked arse walking around your flat."

They started arguing, all four of them talking at once. And to Ianto's surprise, as he watched them—Owen and Tosh protesting in spite of their loneliness, Gwen pushing the line just as she always did, and Jack sticking up for him, trying to protect him—Ianto was struck by a sense of belonging. These people were, in some ways, just as broken as he was, and yet they were his family. They had waited hours for he and Jack to return and appeared genuinely relieved that everything was all right. They cared for him, and Ianto cared for them. And while a part of him wanted nothing more to go back to his own flat and curl up in bed for twelve hours, there was another part that remembered their lives in the alternate reality the Doctor had shown him.

All dead.

But here and now, they were alive, and Ianto didn't want to lose them. He found himself watching Jack, as he tried to tell Gwen that they needed sleep. Gwen managed to convince Tosh, who bullied Owen into coming, but Jack held firm, insisting that he was taking Ianto home. That they'd had a rather difficult time and needed to be alone. That they had plans for later, that—

"Let's go," Ianto blurted out, surprised at the words but enjoying the looks of disbelief from Jack and Owen, the happiness from Tosh, the joy from Gwen. Yes, they were his family, bumps and bruises and all. "I'll even make the coffee. We won't stay long, since I'm sure Rhys won't appreciate being woken up so early, but I think it's a good idea. Thanks, Gwen."

She grinned and linked his arm through his as they started back toward the Hub. "That's settled then. I'll call Rhys and let him know."

"Tell him to put on pants!" Owen called from behind them.

Ianto chuckled. They headed into the tourist office and started downstairs, although Jack held him back, a look of concern on his face.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly. "We don't have to go. Gwen can take no for an answer."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Of course she can't, not without pushing back or throwing a fit. And although I'd prefer to avoid both, I do want to go. I know it seems strange, given what just happened."

"Yes," Jack said, drawing it out into a question. Ianto shrugged.

"But they were dead in that other world because of me. Here, they're like my family. And I don't want to lose them." He barely got the last out before having to clear his throat. Jack pulled him into an embrace.

"You're amazing, you know that, right?" he whispered into Ianto's ear.

"Or I'm a masochist looking for punishment on Christmas morning," Ianto replied. "I really don't want to stay long, of course."

"I'm still shocked you want to go at all," Jack said. "We can leave whenever you're ready."

"And we can't tell them what we saw, Jack," he said, meeting Jack's eyes. "They were all dead. I don't think they'd appreciate that sort of vision, nor understand."

"Of course," Jack murmured. "And they don't need to know why we went there either."

Ianto nodded, then hesitated on his next thought. Jack raised an eyebrow as if reading his mind, and when Ianto still didn't speak, Jack did.

"What is it? You have that look on your face when you have a question you don't want to ask."

Ianto chuckled. "It's not that, not really. It's more that I'm trying to figure out the answer myself, but I suspect I'm too tired to think properly."

"So ask," said Jack, stepping back a little to give Ianto his space. Ianto took a breath.

"What did you mean when you said it was something we both needed to see? It was my alternate timeline, after all." He watched as Jack's face registered first surprise, then closed down as he glanced at the floor. Which meant Ianto had struck too close to home, asked something Jack was not willing to answer. He nodded and was about to tell Jack it was all right, he was used to it after all, but taking a deep breath, Jack glanced up, his eyes bright and honest, and Ianto realized he really was going to get an answer.

"Yes, it was your alternate timeline, but I learned something about myself too. I saw myself bitter and broken, beat down by loss. And because of it, I couldn't do my job, couldn't protect people the way I should. It was not definitely not as comforting as what you took away from it."

"Jack," Ianto started, unsure what to say, but fortunately, Jack held up a hand.

"It did, however, remind me of a few things, things I know but sometimes forget, or put aside on purpose because it's easier to forget. I can't push people away, because even though I will always lose them, I am nothing when I am alone. And more than that, it reminded me how much I need you." He swallowed thickly and took Ianto's hand. "I'm not that man because of you. And not because you saved Gwen or Tosh, but because you saved me. When I thought I'd lost you after Lisa, you survived. When I lost Estelle, and Suzie, and John and Owen and so many others, you helped me survive. When I came back from my trip with the Doctor, you not only gave me another chance, but helped me pull myself together." He pulled Ianto close and rested their foreheads together.

"I'm a better man because of you. So seeing that other reality reminded me that I'm not alone, that I need you, that I—"

Ianto put a finger to Jack's lips. "Don't."

Jack narrowed his eyes, grinned, then licked Ianto's finger, ruining the serious moment, though he also kept them from tumbling headlong into uncharted territory, and they'd already skirted the edges enough for one night.

"Ew," said Ianto, shaking his hand out with exaggerated disgust. Jack laughed, and Ianto joined him, and they stepped apart. But apparently Jack wasn't finished.

"I mean it, though," he said softly. "I need you, and I want you."

Ianto nodded and kissed him softly. "And I need you. Thank you, Jack. For coming, for listening, for being there for me."

"We'll get through this together," Jack replied, taking Ianto's hand and pulling him toward the tunnel that lead to the lift. "Starting with Christmas breakfast at Gwen's." He groaned, and Ianto grinned, bumping him in the shoulder.

"I'll make it up to you later. How about Christmas dinner at mine?" he asked. Jack glanced at him in surprise.

"I thought you were going to your sister's?" he asked. Ianto nodded.

"I will, but I'd like to spend more time with you," he said. He tried to sound nonchalant and probably failed, so he went for dry sarcasm instead. "If it doesn't cut into your board games with Owen too much."

"I'd like that," Jack replied. "Just you and me and maybe some wine in front of the fireplace…"

Ianto stopped him before they stepped into the lift. He kissed him, long and hard with as much passion and feeling as he felt. Jack's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close and it was several minutes before they broke apart.

"Oh, I am really looking forward to later," Jack murmured.

"Me too," Ianto murmured back.

"Happy Christmas, Ianto."

"Happy Christmas, Jack."

Jack took his hand once more. As he stepped back into the Hub, into his real life, Ianto finally believed that this was indeed where he was meant to be, with the people he was meant to be with. It was hard, and it hurt, and sometimes he could barely go on, but he would, because he could do anything with Jack by his side.

And somewhere, somewhen, a Time Lord smiled to himself as the universe continued on exactly as it was meant to be.

For now.

* * *

Author's Note:

The end!

I do apologize for how long it took me to wrap this up, but it turned out quite a bit longer than I anticipated. And my writing mojo has been sadly lacking recently. So we'll call this a day and move on to the next unfinished story, and maybe see if some new ideas will bring some inspiration. Thank you for reading!


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